


Fortieth Birthday

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-25 02:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh, Liiiiiiiisty!" Rimmer crowed as he entered their shared quarters. His face was nearly split from the huge grin he sported. He leaned over Lister's head as he sat at the table reading a comic. His pleased demeanor filtered into his voice, sickly sweet. "Listy, Listy, Listy. How does it feel to be aged and decrepit?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortieth Birthday

"Oh, Liiiiiiiisty!" Rimmer crowed as he entered their shared quarters. His face was nearly split from the huge grin he sported. He leaned over Lister's head as he sat at the table reading a comic. His pleased demeanor filtered into his voice, sickly sweet. "Listy, Listy, Listy. How does it feel to be aged and decrepit?" 

Lister calmly turned the page and offered a distracted, half-hearted, "Stuff it, Rimmer. I'm trying to read." 

Rimmer straightened and snorted. "At your age? I should get Kryten to fit you a pair of glasses. No telling what sort of strain you're doing to your eyes." 

With a sigh, Lister put down his comic. "Rimmer, I'm turning 40; not 140." 

Rimmer ignored the comeback and bounced on the balls of his feet. "Yes, indeedy, Listy. The Big 4-0. Your struggle up the hill is over, now it's a fast roll toward dementia, incontinence and death. Marvelous, isn't it?" 

Lister finally turned to look at his roommate, his face twisted in disbelief. "What's this for, guy? You're older than I am!"

Rimmer's smug grin got smugger. "I'm afraid not, Lister me lad. I died at the tender age of 30; therefore I'm frozen for all of eternity at 30." 

Lister looked him up and down, then a smug grin crossed his features. "Oh, eh? Have you looked in the mirror lately? What's that gray at the temples, if you're only 30? And what about that gut? You're as pudgy as me." 

Rimmer dismissed Lister's concerns with a wave of his hand. "Nonsense. Holograms don't age. JMC wouldn't spend the money on lifelike upgrades to its hologram program, so at age 30 I'll remain while you march onwards toward old age."

Rimmer's confidence wavered as Lister snorted and shot him a knowing look. "You can tell yourself that, Rimmer, but I know what I see. Ask Kryten or Cat; they'll tell you the same. Now let me get back to my comic. I want to see if the Germans win World War I." 

Rimmer watched the back of Lister's head for a few minutes, lost in thought. He couldn't be aging, could he? It wasn't in JMCs programming. 

Smeg. Smeg, smeg, smeg. Legion changed his programming. What if the smegger had added in an aging subroutine? As calmly as he could, he walked out of their quarters and made for the quarters down the hall. He studied his reflection in the mirror. Sure, he had a bit more regal air about him, but that was from experience. He patted his stomach, which felt firm to him – all those crunches paid off in muscle, not fat. So what if he had a few laugh lines around the eyes? It just showed a life – or rather a death – well-lived. Hardly a sign of age. He crinkled his nose and stared at the wrinkles on his forehead. Worry lines, perhaps. Lister did tend to get them in spots of trouble that required his expertise and command to get them out of. Surely that was all they were. He chuckled. What was he worrying about? He was a hologram; it wasn't as if he was going to die tomorrow. He'd be there long after Lister and Cat turned to dust. 

His laughter died away and he met his startled, fear-filled gaze in the mirror. Smeg.

=-=-=-=

"Salutations on the day of your birth, Mr. Lister, sir!" Kryten proclaimed as he set a three tiered cake down in front of him.

"Smeg, Krytes, who do you expect to eat all this?" Lister joked, his voice tinged with admiration. 

Cat leaned over and swiped his finger through the icing. "Mm, bud, I'll eat it all if you don't get to it," he threatened. 

Lister smacked his hand. "Back off, Cat. This is my cake and I get first piece." He was grateful that Kryten only put four candles on the cake – the last thing he needed was bad jokes about fire alarms and the sprinkler system going off. Lister glanced up and around. "Where's Rimmer?" 

"Forget nostril-caveman, just cut the cake!" Cat protested as he made another attempt at stealing a bit of icing. Lister's smack hit before the fingers could touch the side of the cake. 

"I said hands off, Cat," Lister snarled good-naturedly as Cat nursed his sore hand. 

"I spoke to Mr. Rimmer briefly on the way here," Kryten informed them. "He said he would be here momentarily." 

"And here I am!" proclaimed the man himself, entering their quarters with a sweeping flourish. "I had to retrieve your birthday present from its hiding spot. Took me a bit longer than I anticipated." 

Lister's eyes widened as from behind Rimmer's back, he saw the neck, then the body of his beloved guitar. "You had it?" he blurted out, surprised to see it after all these years. "I thought you chucked it out the airlock or crushed it in the waste disposal unit." He held out his hands, and Rimmer placed the instrument gently in his hands. 

The hologram had the grace to have a bit of color on his cheeks. "Erm, yes, well – I couldn't destroy it because I knew how much it meant to you. I just wanted to teach you a lesson about self-restraint. I think it's been long enough. Lesson learned, then?" he said, his voice oddly subdued.

"You gave him back the instrument of torture?" Cat wailed, smacking Rimmer on the arm. "You promised!" 

Lister tuned out their antics as he ran his hands reverently over the wood and plastic, idly stroking the two G and one B string. "Doesn't even need tuning," he declared proudly. He couldn't even be mad at Rimmer, not really. He had taken the piss, playing the guitar day and night for hours on end strictly to annoy his roommate. When he looked up, Cat was being held back by Kryten and Rimmer was holding his hands up defensively. 

"Guys! Guys, it's my birthday. Can we please just sit down and have a slice of cake?" He stared pointedly at Cat who glared back at him, but relented and spent several minutes straightening his clothes. He glanced at Rimmer, who wouldn't look at him. "Rimmer?" 

Rimmer looked at him hesitantly. "Yes?"

He smiled. "Thanks, man. I appreciate you giving it back, and I promise not to play it day and night." 

Rimmer's mouth twisted up funny, then settled into a relaxed smile. "You're welcome. And I wouldn't mind hearing the "Om" song now and then." 

Lister nodded. "It's a deal. Now sit down and have some cake!" 

Lister's wish as he blew out the candles wasn't the original wish he was going to ask for. He already had everything he needed.


End file.
